


Inheritance

by pipistrelle



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Ezri's an adorable disaster, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Klingon gagh would make anyone nauseous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipistrelle/pseuds/pipistrelle
Summary: Ezri contemplates edible insects, and other things Jadzia left behind.





	Inheritance

"Come in," Ezri croaked, then immediately wished she hadn't. Whoever was at the door would probably want to know why she was lying on her bunk in the middle of her morning shift. They would probably make her talk, and they might even turn on the lights without realizing what a horribly bad idea that would be. "Actually, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you to come in, you should go away again," she said as the door hissed open. "In fact you'll probably want to, since if I sit up I'm going to vomit spectacularly, probably all over you, and I don't think that will be fun for anyone."

At first there was no answer, just the quiet pad of footsteps as her visitor crossed the room and returned. Her stomach was warning her in no uncertain terms that opening her eyes would be a gamble she'd regret, which left Ezri Dax nee Tigan lying alone and vulnerable with her eyes shut and her stomach in knots, trapped in a small room with an unknown person. It couldn't be Worf or Odo; Worf's footsteps wouldn't be quiet, and Odo didn't make noise when he walked. That only left most of the population of galaxy, some of which, she realized belatedly, might wish to do her harm. Well, she supposed her roiling stomach itself could be a weapon of last resort --

"Hold still," Nerys said from beside the bed, but before Ezri could relax at hearing her familiar voice, a small phaser-callused hand lifted Ezri's arm away from her face and something deliciously cool and lavender-scented touched her forehead. It was all she could do not to moan in pleasure and relief as it eased the pounding in her temples and distracted her from the waves of nausea and the sticking sensation of _gagh_ legs in her throat.

"I brought a hypospray too, if you need it," Nerys said mildly. The damp washcloth she'd draped over Ezri's forehead covered her eyes, but she felt the mattress dip as Nerys sat on the edge of the bed.

"Thialamine doesn't work," Ezri muttered, "only --"

"Only thialabromine. I know," Nerys finished, amused.

"Right. Of course you do," Ezri sighed. She risked an experimental movement, bending one knee to see if the change of position sent her stomach into another spasm. "I think I'm all right for now."

"You know, I was friends with Jadzia for three years before I knew she'd ever been spacesick? She was always so damn stubborn about hiding it. One time we fought an atmospheric dogfight in a half-junked Bajoran cruiser and -- well, of course you know what happened."

"It's all right," Ezri said quickly, hearing the embarrassment in Nerys' voice. "I know it's easy to forget that we're not the same person _or_ completely different people. If that makes sense. Ugh." She placed a hand on her stomach, wincing as it turned over again. "I'll take that hypospray now, please."

The cold nozzle touched her neck and warm relief spread through her, leaving her flat on the bed, able to breathe easily for the first time in what felt like hours. "Thank you," she groaned. "You know, I was afraid to try to move even to get to my combadge to call Julian."

"I'm sure he would have come himself, if he wasn't too busy pining for Miles," Nerys said, the wry amusement back in her voice. "I've brought tea, too, if you think you can handle it."

" _Baloka_ tea?" Ezri asked hopefully. Now that the thialabromine had eased most of the nausea, she risked raising up the washcloth and peeking out at Nerys with one eye. The lights were still at quarter-power, so she was only a dim silhouette, but her fond smile was as bright as Bajor's sun.

"I didn't know you liked it," Nerys said. Jadzia had hated it, of course. Nerys swore by the all-purpose healing powers of the Bajoran herbs in it, and she'd succeeded in forcing Jadzia to drink it a few times when she was miserably sick, but the complaining afterwards had been almost worse than the sickness.

"I think I do," Ezri said thoughtfully. "I could be wrong. But I'm willing to give it a try."

"I'll go and make it, then." Nerys' weight vanished, and Ezri let the washcloth fall again and rested both hands cautiously on her sternum, listening to the small movements Nerys made as she moved around the room, and thinking. These weren't Jadzia's quarters; that would have been too uncomfortable for everyone, except maybe Odo, who was annoyed by having two residential files in his security database under the name Dax. Everyone else agreed that different quarters were a good idea, but all of them still occasionally started walking in the wrong direction out of habit, when they were looking for her or walking her home at the end of a shift. Actually Julian was the only one who bothered walking her home at the end of her shift, and she should really talk to him about that, it indicated some unsolved attachment issues. Not that she could really blame him, but all the same, she realized she was relieved that it wasn't Julian who had come to check on her after all. And she was relieved that it wasn't Sisko, since he would probably just want to talk to her about some thorny station problem he expected her to know how to solve. She loved the man, but he was all business these days. Not that she could really blame him for that either. There was, she decided, plenty of tension and odd behavior to go around without adding to it by assigning blame.

"Tea's ready," Nerys announced, interrupting the spiraling, decaying orbit of Ezri's thoughts. "You can have some as soon as you can sit up."

Carefully, testingly, Ezri raised herself an inch on her elbows. Then another inch. When her stomach stayed firmly in place, she pushed herself up the rest of the way, then yelped in surprise as a rush of dizziness tilted the room sideways and she reached out for something to grab onto, which turned out to be Nerys' arm. "Sorry," she said, closing her eyes again as she waited for gravity and orientation to come back. "I think I pushed it a little too fast there."

"It's not your fault, you know," Nerys said, and Ezri opened her eyes again, blinking up at her expression, which was suddenly unreadable. "Jadzia is... was... a person with a lot of... presence. In every way." She paused. "A lot of presence and a lot of _gagh._ "

"A tough act to follow," Ezri supplied. She accepted the mug Nerys handed her and took a tentative sip. The tea was mildly bitter, astringent, weedy almost, but with a subtlety of flavor that Jadzia, with her palate used to overpowering bloodwine, had never noticed. Ezri decided she did like it, and so far her stomach wasn't rejecting it, which was a good sign. She took another sip. "You know, I think I'm learning that."

Nerys sat down on the bed again, not too close. She had her own mug of something that smelled completely different from _baloka_ , something spicy and sweet, undoubtedly Bajoran. "I have a great appreciation of Klingons as a people," Ezri told her, "but if you ask me, no one does food, or tea, better than Bajor."

"Don't let Sisko hear you say that," Nerys warned, but she looked genuinely pleased.

Jadzia had liked all kinds of food, but she had always harbored a preference for Klingon coffee, Klingon dishes made with scorching spices and live worms (Ezri shuddered and swallowed another mouthful of tea), Klingon battle calisthenics -- even Klingon desserts (some of them you had to be careful biting into, in case they tried to bite back). She liked everything loud and bright and wild and _fun_.

Jadzia's memories of Nerys were like that, too -- bright and wild and fun, full of passion, vibrant and exciting. There were times when very _visceral_ memories of Jadzia's time with Nerys would surface without warning, and while that was always uncomfortable, it helped that Ezri's friendship with Nerys was something totally different -- something warm and soothing, relaxed and relaxing, not always under the tension of danger or the exhilaration of sex. They could sit here, several feet apart, in silence, drinking tea. That wasn't something Ezri could ever remember Jadzia doing. It felt nice, to do something new.

"I talked to Odo," Nerys said without preamble. "He has a Klingon contact, a young security officer who's willing to buy up all the _gagh_ and present it to Martok himself. He's quite excited for the honor it will bring his House."

"Kira Nerys, you are a gift from the Prophets," Ezri said with complete sincerity.

Nerys only smiled, then drained the last of her tea and stood. "I should get back to Ops."

"Thank you," Ezri said. "Really." She paused for a moment, thinking. "You shouldn't have done this, though."

Nerys raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because now I won't be forced to cancel your session this afternoon." Ezri grinned as Nerys rolled her eyes. "If you'd left me at the mercy of eight conflicting digestive systems, you could've gone and played springball or something instead of talking about your feelings with me."

"Maybe next time I will." Nerys smiled and let her hand rest on Ezri's shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. It was a comforting touch, with no spark in it at all. "I'll let the Captain know you'll be up to Ops in a little while."

After she had left Ezri leaned back against the wall, cradling her mug of tea. It wasn't all _gagh_ and gender confusion, being Joined. There were... compensations.


End file.
